


The Light Off Glass

by aionimica



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: American Gothic - Freeform, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dreams vs. Reality, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Gothic, Hurt/Comfort, Mirrors, Portals, Questioning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-11-07 19:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20822654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aionimica/pseuds/aionimica
Summary: There once was a mirror left behind, that Rey took home and put in her room.It was an ordinary mirror. Nothing was unusual about it.Until one day, she saw a man inside.





	1. PART I

**Author's Note:**

> To those that are reading this, thank you. I have many conflicted feelings about this fic, more lengthy and personal than what I need to or should go into detail here. But this has been one of the hardest things I've ever had to write. And I almost gave up many times, but I didn't want to let this beat me. And I guess the fact that it's been published means that it didn't. 
> 
> To my beta reader, HarpiaHarpyja, thank you so much for giving me the encouragement to keep going and the vision to help mold this into what it could be.
> 
> To my mods, crossingwinter and mnemehoshiko, thank you so much for your help and encouragement. I wouldn't have kept going if it wasn't for you.
> 
> I hope you all like this weird little fic of mine.
> 
> My theme was _Portals_

* * *

The candlelight cast long shadows across the floor. Rey took a deep breath and sat back on her heels, smoothing her hands on her legs as she wiped the sweat away. 

In front of her was the mirror. 

She was alone, but that was not surprising. Rather, it was the room itself or what it held in it that set her on edge. Always on edge, perhaps; a precipice overlooking a fall that could go on forever or end in a second. 

The mirror was an oddity.

On one hand, she had the mirror only for few years. Back when the Calrissian and Co Circus came to town for an extended stay; it was around the same time that she aged out of Plutt’s care and took up an apprenticeship at the scrapyard. Everything was coming together -- life was happening and the world seemed full of promise. 

But when the circus left, it took that sense of promise with it. It was as if it came solely to gift itself for a little while and then steal it away. 

They left the mirror behind, however. Rey still remembers standing, that first Monday back at work, finding it stacked against a shed on the far corner of the yard. Wrought iron twisted around a great piece of glass that reached up to the sky. It was ornate in a manner that didn’t exist these days. 

“You know,” Finn huffed, as he and Poe struggled to carry the thing into her trailer, “I feel like it’s heavy with a curse. Do you really want something cursed to be heavy inside your house?”

Rey wiped the sweat from her brow and ran ahead to open the door. “Less talk, more carry.”

It took all three of them the better part of the day to get the mirror inside. Poe groaned as he bent forward at the waist. “If that thing threw out my back, I’m sending you the bill.” 

Any other time, Rey would have thrown a pillow at him, but there was something about this mirror that she couldn’t look away from; not even for humor or the threat of additional expense.

Finn stared at it, pensive, as she centered it in her spare room. “That thing sure is…. something.”

“Yeah.” Rey grinned and looked up at it. From this angle, it wanted to pierce the ceiling. “It’s… I don’t know. It just speaks to me, you know? I couldn’t let it go to waste.”

“And the cursed memories of the That Damn Circus will live forever in your house,” Poe grumbled from the couch. 

As payment, she ordered a pizza and passed out beers. They ate and drank and then they left and she was alone. 

Rey thought that was that. 

She went back to work the next day; sorting through scrap, taking apart cars and filing away useful and sellable parts to the highest bidder. Some days were contested with getting the best price at the smelt plant. But more often than not, they were the exact same. Go to work. Dig around sharp, hazardous metal. Try not to fall. Sort through the piles. Paperwork. Go home. And again the next day. And the next. 

She was young and the work was hard, but it was work and it was all she had. Mundane as it was, it was something, and that made her feel alive for a short time. But as the days turned to weeks and then months and then years, it all turned to shades of grey. Go to work. Dig around sharp, hazardous metal. Try not to fall. Sort through the piles. Paperwork. Go home. Go to work. Dig around sharp, hazardous metal. Try not to fall. Sort through the piles. Paperwork. Go home. 

Technically the town she lived in had a name. But calling it a town was giving it a little too much credit—everyone gave the name of the city a few hours away and let the name of this place fall to ruin. Most could only recall where it was based on how many fields of cotton and tobacco they passed before the got to the crossroads. Only the post office gave it any form of worth. 

Rey fondly called it Nowhere. 

In a sense, she liked it. She prefered Nowhere to Thomasville or something so common. Nowhere was mysterious. Nowhere was adventurous. And Nowhere spoke to her. A nothing in Nowhere. 

As the years went by the man who owned the scrapyard died and no one questioned it when Rey stepped in to take his place. Not when the scrap kept coming and there needed to be someone to take it. 

The summers were hot and the nights were cold and the seasons switched slowly. But the need for scrap metal never wavered and so, Rey found herself digging through piles in the scrapyard with the same methodical tendencies that got her through her youth. Keep your head down, do your job, and no one would notice you. 

It was a dying place for a girl who so desperately wanted to be found and who was looking for so much. Constantly searching for answers about herself, about her future, about how she could get out of this shithole town to a life that could actually support her, and instead, when she was supposed to be working or looking for a job to help her in those endeavors, she’d reduced herself to sitting at home.

Searching for answers wasn’t just a luxury anymore. It was a necessity. 

But until that came, all that mattered was waiting for someone to find her again.

~

When Rey found the mirror, she was sure she’d forget it. A mirror in a spare room, what reason did she have for using it, let alone keeping it? But more often than not, Rey found herself sitting alone in her spare room, staring at the thing. As time went on, she’d come home from work, make herself dinner, and eat sitting in front of it. At first, it was simple curiosity. It was a beautiful thing to behold, that much was certain. And there was a part of her that wanted to believe that this was left behind for her -- it was left in her scrapyard. No one else seemed to want it. She could appreciate it at least. 

She mulled over questions that flitted through her brain as she carefully traced the intricate ironwork designs. What did the circus use it for? Why was it left behind? But when she would look at her rendering and then look back to the mirror there were always differences. No matter how well she referenced it, she could never truly capture the mirror, or its essence. 

But now? Now, it had become almost a routine. She knew this mirror. She knew that it called to her and she was hesitant to respond. Sitting in front of it, Rey glanced around anything beyond her own face. 

Delicately, she reached out. 

The glass was cold and reflected only her calloused hands.

~

Candles were an all too common sight in her trailer. Rey became rather adept at penny pinching over the years -- television was a luxury she indulged in on late weekend nights at Finn and Rose’s and the internet was something that she barely managed to scrape by. Most days she’d open her windows and let the sun do electricity’s work for her and as the sun set, she’d pull out a match and a few candles and settle herself in front of the mirror and sit. If anything, it was cheaper than electricity and the candlelight reflected in the glass was soothing. 

Taking a deep breath in, Rey sighed. 

There was something about the mirror, well - she told herself, there was always something about the mirror. Something that made her come and sit with it night after night, as if it were a puzzle waiting for her to solve. Some childish part of her wondered if it was magic or cursed, and if that was the reason it was left behind. 

She leaned forward and propped herself on her elbows. “What are you hiding?” she murmured. 

The mirror did nothing. Rey frowned and pushed back the foolishness threatening to rise up for thinking it even could. It was a mirror. That was it. There was nothing special about it, other than an ornate design too fine for scrap and hidden in her room.

“Fine,” she huffed. “Don’t tell me. But just know that I’m really a decent person for taking you in and the very least that you can do is give me something in return.”

Taking a deep breath, she blew out the candle and stood to turn away. It was late and the threat of another long day called her to bed, but soft light illuminated her skin. Rey stilled and slowly turned back around. The soft light faded away to a gentle glow emanating from the center of the mirror. It was ethereal, reaching out from the center until it covered all the edges of the mirror and danced into the filigree of the frame.

And on the other side of the mirror, in a small corner almost equal to her own, there was a room.

It was like looking through a window on a clear summer day. There were no smudges or stains on the glass—Rey felt that if she were to reach out and touch the glass, her hand would go right through. It was as if she was standing on the other side herself.

It was a small room. Well lit, though that was as much as she could tell. And empty. It was strangely empty. There were no signs of life or living, apart from a chair in the corner that collected dust.

“Ok mirror, this isn’t what I meant.” Rey peered through it, frantically looking for an answer, her hands scrambling to relight the candle. “What the fuck?”

The light cast away the darkness, the glow of the mirror fading, and Rey found herself staring into her own face. The window closed and became a mirror again. 

“Fuck.” She wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Maybe this was why the circus left it behind. It was cursed -- it had to be cursed, right? Because whatever just happened, it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real… Rey turned around and took a step forward.  _ Could it _ ? 

She stared at it for a moment. Nothing happened. She waited for a few moments. Nothing happened.  _ Now you’re being ridiculous _ , she chided herself. She dealt with more terrifying possibilities every day than a magic mirror: loss of limbs, tetanus, wounds or being crushed if any of her machinery failed in some circumstances. This mirror was not more than those—she could handle whatever this was. It wasn’t even a second after she snuffed the candle that the room in the mirror roared back to light.

~

It was odd to wait in front of a mirror. 

Days came and days went. Rey worked as the sun rose and set in the sky, and in the evenings, she found herself curled up in front of it more often than not. Once her work was done and there were no obligations that required her, she would go back to her spare room and sit in front of the mirror and turn out the lights. If it were daytime, she would draw the curtains and watch the place on the other side.

It was a simple room—that never changed. The furnishings were bare, and dust collected in the corners along with cobwebs. Eerily reminiscent of her trailer, the one difference was that it had sturdy walls instead of her own cheaply plastered vinyl that took place of drywall. It was a  _ place _ . A place that existed in this window—in her mirror. In some ways it reminded her of television -- if her trailer could get cable or if the internet wasn’t too expensive for her to use: this is what she would watch, waiting for something to pass through, to prove that this was just a vision or a television screen. It couldn’t possibly be real.

But it was mesmerizing and just like the shows that Rey watched on nights with her friends, she couldn’t look away. 

It was after a particularly mundane day that it all paid off. At least, that’s how it seemed at first. 

It was late at night and the candles were burning low. Rey curled up on the floor, her blanket tucked beneath her chin as she watched the mirror and the room beyond with a lazy stare. Sleep pulled at her eyelids. She yawned and stretched, desperate to keep sleep at bay for just a little longer when a shadow crossed her face. 

Her eyes opened wide. Someone was in the room.

A man strode across the mirror. He was tall, broad shouldered and dressed far better than anyone she knew in Nowhere. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, and he walked around with his back to her. Dark hair—a deep brown she first mistook for black—fell almost to his shoulders in gentle waves as he brushed his hands through it.

He turned around. 

“Fuck.”

The word clanged around the room, echoing in her ears. Rey threw the blanket over her head and clasped her hand over her mouth.

A pause. Nothing. 

Tentatively, she peered from beneath it. The man frowned and took a step towards her. She froze, willing herself not to move—not to breathe. Nothing to tip off the stranger that she was staring at him through the window. But as she sat still, the more she noticed that he didn’t notice her. His eyes drifted off past her—or past whatever was his version of the mirror. He paid her no mind at all.

But then he frowned and looked towards her. Truly at her, not just tangential or off to the side. How long had it been since someone—a stranger even—looked at her like that? For the first time in far too long, Rey felt naked and exposedseen. His eyes were keen; dark brown, soft with hard edges.

Gathering all of her daring, Rey lowered the blanket back to her lap. “You can’t see me…” she asked tentatively. “Can you?”

His eyes narrowed. Rey held her breath. Everything caught in her throat and time slowed. He was… The man was like nothing she’d ever seen before and yet… Rey watched him as he moved closer -- seeing her yet seeing through her. And there was an echo somewhere in her chest, that maybe she did want him to find her, even as she desperately tried to not hide. Potential and possibility swirled together. But the man said nothing, instead looking just off to the side of her and reaching out, pulling a book off the shelf from somewhere in his room.

Rey’s breathing came back with a shudder. Her muscles ached as the adrenaline left and she slumped back in her posture.  _ He didn’t see me, thank god.  _ She gathered herself and stood and turned to look at the mirror one last time. 

And he looked at her. 

And this time, it came with a strange chill running down her spine, as if he were looking through a fog before, and now the sun had come out and cleared it all away. Rey swallowed _ . He can see me, shit.  _ Her mind raced before freezing on that single thought. It was too late to hide.  _ He can see me.  _

He didn’t say anything. His eyes locked on hers. Rey resisted the urge to fold in on herself.  _ Oh, he can definitely see me _ . The man nodded once before lifting up his flashlight. Without looking away from her, he turned it on. The light blinded her momentarily before the mirror went dark and he disappeared. 

~

The next time Rey looked in the mirror, it was with the grim satisfaction that she was not alone. The man was on the other side, doing some sort of work. He was writing something down on paper. Off to his side was a flashlight, not in use. Instead, he wrote by her light. And to add to her grievances, he didn’t look up.

“Who are you?” Why she wanted to know was a conundrum. All she felt was the sweat of her palms. She shouldn’t want anything to do with whatever he was and yet… Rey paced and clenched her hands. Curiosity didn’t always bring calamity. 

Silence. She tried again. “Can’t you hear me? No. Of course you can’t, because of course you’re just ignoring me on purpose… Like everybody.”

Bitterness rose in the back of her throat. Everyone. A part of her whispered,  _ not Finn, not Rose _ , but it was quiet and beaten down by too many days where she went to work alone and came home alone and there was no one there. Everyone was everyone but Finn and Rose and some days, Rey doubted even them. There was no reason why she should, other than years of loss and wanting and waiting. 

They were her closest friends. She loved and trust them. Trust and truth were two sides of the same coin, but fear kept her from flipping it when her traitorous heart whispered old fears to her late at night. Fear of knowing and weighing herself in their eyes and finding herself wanting. 

When she looked back at the man, he was writing on a piece of paper. She tapped on the metal frame. He didn’t look up.

Rey grit her teeth and tentatively pressed her fingers against the glass. It was cold. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

After a few moments he held up the paper. There was an old-fashioned slant to his hand writing, as if pulled from an old book. Each stroke was deliberate and precise. It was beautiful, Rey noted, much too artful to have written something so simple to her. 

_ Sound can’t pass through. _

Maddeningly unhelpful.

He held up another piece of paper.

_ You have to want to hear to hear it. _

Rey blinked. “Fuck, I’m definitely losing it.”

Exasperation flooded her as she settled back onto the floor. She was seeing things -- surely she was seeing things. That was the only explanation. And if she told anyone she was seeing things, well… she had a decent relationship with her therapist, so maybe it wouldn’t be the worst… 

The man was looking at her, pointedly. Rey swallowed. After a moment, he nodded at the paper he laid down. 

_ No, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t work. _

_ And you’re not losing it. _

Slowly she looked up. He seemed to be a figment of a different world, lit up from the light of her mirror, pale skin bathed in cool light. “Can you… you can hear me?” 

His eyes lit up and with full lips mouthed,  _ Yes _ .

She was on her feet again, pacing in the too-small room. He could hear her. He could hear her and see her and she could only do one of those things. None of his advice made any sense.  _ What does that even mean? To hear you have to want to hear? _

“None of this is an answer to the fact that I can’t hear you, and you can hear me,” she pointed a finger in his direction for emphasis, “which is a fucking unbalanced situation.” 

Slowly and reluctantly he bent down over his paper and wrote again. 

_ I wasn’t offering an answer, just an avenue to a solution. _

“It’s not very clear.”

_ Focus. _

Rey glared at the man. He glared back and wrote underneath it:

_ Sit down. _

Reluctantly, she complied. 

_ Focus. _

She closed her eyes and took a breath through her nose. Focus… Focus… But on what? There was nothing to focus on. Frustrated, she opened her eyes and stared at the man in the mirror. He was looking at her, scribbling on scraps of paper. She tore her gaze away. There was nothing. Just crates; dusty furniture. She leaned back on her hands, taking the mirror in. She let her eyes drift, fading off to something in the corner. 

And in the corner of her eye were the sides of the mirror. The intricate ironwork with those details she was never able to quite capture. Now when she looked at them, they faded away; when she glanced to the side, they came back, as if her brain were trying to keep everything out of tune. Twisting together into elaborate nothingness, yet with hidden meanings. Not one to be bested by craftsmanship, Rey focused.

Her vision spun and dust flecks drifted across her vision. The mirror in front of her warped -- glass to air to a gaping black void -- before suddenly fading away. Shaking her head, Rey blinked the room back into focus. Gripping her temples, she bent over her knees and swore.

“Shit, that didn’t work.”

The man jolted, streaking his stylus haphazardly across the paper. Rey sat up straight, a hesitant smile on her face.

“Can you hear me now?” he asked, and Rey breathed as his voice brushed her ears, filling almost the entire small room with his presence. 

It thrummed, reverberating against the flimsy walls and over the whirring of the window unit. Sweat -- or was it anticipation? -- beaded on her brow.

“Who are you?” she asked just as he stiffened and his mouth slammed shut. Broad shoulders tightened and Rey swallowed as he reached for his flashlight. So that’s what it would mean to be seen; to be left alone again. 

His hand stilled and he leaned forward. “Have we met before?”

“I would remember you,” she said, a small laugh escaping her. Her cheeks flushed.

The man frowned. “Must have been a dream…” 

A dream… The hairs on her arms rose. “Is this a dream?”

“It’s not mine,” he said quietly. 

Rey stilled. Her stomach dropped suddenly. “Are you real?” The question spilled from her lips more desperate than she intended.

“That’s an odd question.”

“That’s an odd answer,” she said factually, more for her benefit than him. “Anyone real shouldn’t have much trouble answering that.”

“Maybe,” he allowed. “Or maybe it’s that I don’t want to give away all my information to strange people in mirrors.” There was something about the way that his mouth moved that made his words almost purr as he spoke. Chills ran down her spine, as cold as the light that bathed them.

“You’ve given away more information to strangers on the internet.” He stiffened at that, and Rey couldn’t resist a grin as she struck a nerve. “What does it matter? It’s not like any information you could give me would change where I am or what is happening. Not like it could give me any answers.”

And what was that exactly? Nowhere was all she knew -- this life was all she had and yet all she did was spend her days waiting for life to find her. For someone to find her and take her away. But it was just the dream of a girl who wanted both desperately to run and for absolutely nothing to change. 

His brow furrowed, his gaze intrigued. “What are you seeking?”

“I don’t know…” She looked the man in the mirror in the eyes. “But I’ll know when I find it.”

His noble brow relaxed into scorn. “Such youthful optimism.”

Disdain rolled off his lips. Rey felt herself standing taller, looking down on him as he sat before her. “It’s not optimism. I am… Pragmatic.”

“What’s the difference?” He shrugged her beginning objection aside. “Still waiting, still searching, does it matter if you hope for a happy ending? Is pragmatism just your way of viewing the world, the best way for you to cope? And if that’s optimism, would not that be pragmatic for you?”

There was a away that he looked at her as he spoke that sent chills down her spine. Shadows settled in odd places on his skin. Maybe this was a dream. “Maybe…”

“Why did you look in my mirror?” he asked after a moment, his words harsh.

Rey felt her lip curl and resisted the urge to growl. “Oh? Your mirror? It’s been my room the whole time. Never seen anyone else use it, nor does anyone else seem to care about it beyond being a  _ mirror _ .”

His words merged with hers as she spoke, their sentences overlapping until it was only the difference in pitch of their voices that differentiated two speakers. Any spite fizzled out and left her with an uncanny sense of knowing, of likeness.

That same dread threatened her stomach again. That unsettling sensation of knowledge just beyond your grasp. And it pulled her towards him, twisting into the singular question: who is he? 

“Not unlike me.” He took a step closer, his eyes narrowed and Rey fought the urge to take a step back. Instead, she stood up straighter, eyes locked with his, never looking away. He was seeing her and yet not, as if he had to work to look through the glass.

He frowned and stood back up. At first she wondered if the mirror distorted what she saw, like the ones in the fun house when the carnival came to town, where people paid money to see distortions of themselves; to look into a reality past their own. But if anything, the mirror showed her a perfect reflection—just not necessarily of herself.

“How do I know you are real? That this isn't just another trick of mirrors?”

“You’re looking into a mirror. What you trust is your own.” His voice was clipped, answers short.

_ God, if he kept speaking in riddles… _

And if this were a dream… If this was nothing and all in her mind, where would that leave her? A girl alone in Nowhere -- A nothing left behind. But nothing could change the fact that she saw him there, right there in front of her, as clear as day. As clear as if Finn were waving from the other side of a window. The man watched her silently. His face stood out in the dark. A single scar roped down the side of his face, down his throat before disappearing beneath his neckline.

“Do you bleed?” she asked suddenly. All the cuts and scars on her hands and arms suddenly flared, her skin crawling. One good thing to finally come out of the scrapyard: there was proof in her body and in her veins that she was alive. She felt each mark on her skin -- memories of what brought her to this point. 

He stared at her for a moment, blinking in confusion. “What… Do I bleed? I’m human. What do you think?”

“Prove it.” Rey stood stock still, desperately ignoring the crawling sensation across her skin. “I’m not entertaining ghosts and figments of my imagination unless you can prove that you’re real.”

“I’m not going to prove it, especially not to a  — “

She cut him off suddenly as she ran into her kitchen. Small, dirty and barren like the rest of her trailer, it didn’t hold much. Rey grabbed one of her knives out of the drawer before rushing back into the room. He was still there when she returned, and she watched his eyes widen as he realized her intent. 

She stood in front of him and raised the blade to her hand. 

“I’m real,” she said as she drew the blade across her palm. Blood ran warm and hot across her skin, and through her fingers as she clenched it in her fist.

He pursed his lips together and watched as the blood dripped from her hand down her arm to drip onto the floor. He didn’t look away as he reached behind him and drew a knife from his pocket. He didn’t look away as he raised it to his own hand and cut across the palm, his own blood running red down his pale skin. The way he looked at her was otherworldly. Conflicting emotions danced across his face, flashing almost too fast for her to notice. Uncertainty and fear and strained and angry that he was so compelled to play along. The man raised his hand and pressed it against the glass, smearing it his hand print across the mirror face.

“I’m real,” he said his voice haggard. “I’ve fought too long and too hard to convince myself of that. Don’t make me question that otherwise.”

Before Rey could do anything, he reached a bloody hand down to the flashlight and turned it on. 

All she saw in the mirror was her reflection, with a bloody hand print smeared across the surface.


	2. PART II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all your comments and kudos <3 they mean a lot, truly. and if you enjoy, please share with your friends!
> 
> And don't forget to check out the other fics in this collection -- they're incredible

* * *

There was a special art in waiting. Rey learned it long ago. 

Plutt told her she was dropped off with not even a blanket to keep her warm. “ _ Not even worthy for a basket baby _ ” was what he called her. 

But she had a memory. Or a dream -- some might call it a dream -- but Rey swore it was clearer and more real than any dream she had. It was a summer day and the sun was blinding. Someone pulled her away as her mother dropped her hand. 

“ _ We’ll be back sweetheart _ .” 

That was nearly twenty years ago and Nowhere didn’t change much in the meantime. But Rey had a promise to keep and became a pupil in patience. She could wait for anyone. 

So when the mirror didn’t open the next day, wait she did. The mirror had been dark for days, as if that man was on the other side kept a light just to keep her at bay. Every night she tried to see through. She’d sit in front of it with a single lit candle, snuff it, only to see nothing in return.

Once or twice Rose come by, and the two sat in front of it for hours, talking. Rose brought over some candles since Rey’s electric bill was something neither of them had to address. The candles ran low every now and then; Rey would glance at the mirror out of the corner of her eye, looking for something—light movement, anything. All she saw was her own face, and Rose’s laugh.

“Is this that mirror you got from the circus? That Poe keeps griping about?” 

Rey nodded. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

Rose leaned back and ran a hand across the surface. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Where did you find it?”

Rey grinned sheepishly. “Outside the scrapyard. Can you believe it? They just threw it away, left it behind…” Her voice trailed off. Tears welled in her eyes and tightness coiled in her chest. 

God, why was she empathizing with a mirror?

Rose nudged her gently. “The find of a lifetime, you scavenger.”

She wiped away the tears and fell into her friend with a small smile. Rey sniffled. “Old habits are hard to break.”

“God knows that’s true,” Rose said gently. “And actually that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Rey blinked and nodded her head. Rose passed her a glass of wine. “Have you ever heard of the Organas?”

“Like Leia Organa? The actress?”

“Well, yes. But don’t say that to her.”

Rey sputtered. “Wait, are you telling me that you know  _ the  _ Leia Organa?”

Rose grinned. “I work with her. Finn’s applying for a job with them as well. And I might have put your name in for a gig. You interested?”

“God yes!” The only way to explain the feeling in her chest was with tears of delight. 

~

Hope, it turns out, is fleeting. 

As the days went by, there was no word from Rose and hope fell back into the mundane shades of grey that all too often categorized her life.

More often than not, Rey found herself back in front of the mirror, searching for balm to a wound she couldn’t quite place. Irritatingly, the mirror remained dark. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about the man she saw. He was handsome, undeniably so, but there was a presence about him that followed her even outside the mirror. That look in his eyes when he cut his hand -- he never looked away from her, not with all the accusation and uncertain hatred in his eye. Rey knew that look, she knew it so well, but to feel it turned on herself? 

It was ridiculous, really. It shouldn’t exist and Rey definitely shouldn’t have seen a man inside and she definitely shouldn’t have been able to talk to him. But she  _ felt _ in that moment when their eyes met and she heard his voice. There was  _ something _ there and for once it made living in Nowhere seem like a blessing. 

There was the small matter that the gnawing sensation in the back of her mind that none of this was real. That this was just some figment of her imagination gone awry. Finn couldn’t see the window, and neither could Rose. All they saw was their reflection. Rey found herself wondering as she curled up into bed at night,  _ Why can’t I only see my reflection too? _

Then one day, late at night, just as she was falling asleep in the dark, the mirror lit up, casting ambient light into the tiny room. Pulling her blanket around her, Rey made her way back in front of the mirror sat in front of the lights.

The man sat cross-legged in front of her, his arms resting on his knees, his hair half pulled back while his bangs fell over his forehead. He looked…. pensive. 

“You left me,” Rey pointed out with no lack of bitterness. She didn’t sit. 

He looked up to her. “I was… afraid.”

Rey ignored the sudden flutter in her stomach as she noticed the depth in those eyes. Brown that turned hazel as they caught the light, they reached out to her with a yearning she wasn’t prepared for.. “Afraid? Afraid of what?”

“You.”

“Me…” It was more of a realization than question. The man nodded. Rey looked away.

“I was wondering if you’d like to talk.”

After a moment, she sat down and finally dared to meet those eyes. “Names first”

He licked his lips -- full lips that seemed almost red in the dark light -- then said, “Kylo Ren.”

“Kylo…” Rey let the name roll over her tongue. It was odd. One she hadn’t heard before — and despite working in Nowhere, she’d heard plenty. It was a mix of hard consonants and soft vowels, which, given the shape of the man, was more than an apt name.

“And you?” 

Rey opened her eyes and breathed in slowly. He was looking at her in a way she had never been looked at before. He was leaning in now, and there was an eagerness in his expression, the tilt to his jaw as if he might be hanging on her every word. As if her name would give him all he wanted in the world. Names  _ were  _ a powerful thing. 

She smiled. “Rey.”

“Rey…” Warmth spilled down her limbs at the sound of her name coming from him. It flared before settling somewhere between her legs.

She took a shuddering deep breath. “This can’t be real…”

“Why do you say that?”

She was standing at this point, shaking off the heat from her limbs, walking in circles as if it would be enough to keep him away. “Because you can’t be. It’s impossible. This is a  _ mirror _ .”

“I’m real, Rey.” He was standing at this point too. But where Rey paced like a caged animal, he stood still, a wolfhound waiting to pounce.

“No, this isn’t real.” She turned and grabbed the mirror frame with both hands. It was cold to the touch, the wrought iron rough on her palms. She winced as it brushed against her scab.

“I work in a place with all sorts of things. Machinery and metal and things people have tossed away. I work in a place where people… They come to get rid of what they don’t want. They look at the world and see what they want and then get rid of what they don’t.” She caught his gaze and wished she could see her own face for once. “I work with what’s real and tangible. Mirrors can’t be windows. It’s impossible for them to be real. Reality is staring into the mirror—reality is on one side. Reflection is weak and can fade. So that’s what this has to be. Just a reflection. Some figment of my imagination—from the fuck-all sleep I’ve gotten this week, I’m sure—“

“Rey!” Kylo pounded on the glass with both fists, and it echoed in the small room. Rey startled and looked up in surprise. The glass didn’t break, but he was pressed flush against it.

“I’m here,” he said under his breath, like if he spoke quietly enough he could be heard beneath all the noise in her head. “I have to be. What I am and what I feel is real. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

She didn’t respond and he leaned in, almost crooned. “Ah. You do. You know what it’s like to dream and think that it might be real? Or to look around you and This is real, Rey. What I am and what I feel is as real as you and your experiences. Why would mine be any less? Reality is what you make of it. My reality is where I am. What you feel and see and touch is real. So it is for me.” He spoke half angry, half desperate. “Trust me.”

Rey reached out a hand. It was cold. Nothing but glass. No matter who he was on the other side of the glass, Kylo Ren only existed in her mind here. 

This time, it was her turn to douse the candle and cast his world away. She picked her shawl up from the floor and wrapped it around her shoulders before climbing into bed. “I’m sorry.”

~

“Rey what are you…?” Finn paused in the doorway despite Rey dragging him into her room. “Seriously Rey, what’s gotten into you?”

“I just want to show you something,” she said, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. Kylo’s words from the night before shook her. She held onto what was real where she could.  _ Reality is what you make of it _ , he said. So she would. 

Finn was real. That she knew. She knew it by the solidness of his hand in hers and the familiar way he laughed. With him, Rey could breathe and not wonder,  _ is this real _ ? Taking a breath and smiling, Finn followed until he was right in front of the mirror that took up more than half her room. “Damn, you’ve kept this thing?”

“From the way you and Poe went about after helping me get it in here, I was too afraid to get rid of it.” Finn grinned and nudged her shoulder and Rey decided against repeating their wearisome tirades . 

“So…” He rocked on his heels and pushed his hands in his pockets. “What’s this about?”

“So this is a mirror—”

“I can see that, Rey.”

She rolled her eyes. “LIsten. It’s just something I want to double check with someone and make sure I’m not going crazy and you always think I’m crazy in some fashion so this is a safe bet. Just look. Look.” She reached out and doused the lights, leaving her and Finn in darkness, with just daylight creeping under the door. 

It didn’t take long before the familiar glow of the other room rose up and bathed them both in soft light. Rey grinned. It was working—it was working with someone other than her. Finn leaned in towards the glass and frowned. 

“What am I supposed to see?”

“Finn…” Rey didn’t look at him as he turned on the lights, and she watched as the other side of the mirror turned back to her reflection. “Please tell me what you saw.”

“It’s just a mirror, Rey. I see myself.” He walked back in front of it. “See? I see us—you and me next to each other. What do you see?”

“The two of us,” Rey answered quickly. 

He pursed his lips. “What did you think you were going to see?”

Rey rubbed her arms and looked back at the glass. It was better than looking at his face while she lied. “It’s just a pretty mirror I thought, maybe I dreamed… I saw something inside it. Something not in my room.”

“Dreams don’t mean much. I wouldn’t put much stock in them,” he said after a moment. Rey looked up. Finn was someone she could always count on. He was always there for her, her cornerstone in this fucked up world. Solid, real, true. The complete opposite of what called to her. Was that why he couldn’t see it? “I mean, a few nights ago, I dreamed that I was a ringmaster of a circus that I decided to use to conquer the world.” Rey looked at him, then the ground as he squeezed her shoulder. “Dreams don’t make much sense. Don’t think too much about it.”

Rey nodded and forced a smile. She followed them into the door and watched as he turned back. “Rose told you I got the Organa job, right?”

It took her a moment to remember. “Yeah! Congrats, man, that’s awesome.”

Finn rubbed the back of his neck and grinned. “Yeah, didn’t quite expect I’d end up there. Rose has been talking you up too.”

An uncharacteristic blush rose in her cheeks. “That’s what she said.”

“Well, if you ever want to meet her -- Leia, I mean -- she’s been asking about you, you know?”

Rey most certainly didn’t and didn’t know how to respond to that. All the shame of being alone with the mirror evaporated in that second as she replied with “Fuck yes, please.”

Finn’s face lit up. “I’ll be in touch.”

~

There was some small comfort to find him waiting for her when she came back the next day. That stilled her for a moment as she walked into the room. He was waiting for her. There was some new furniture in his side of the room, an empty plate on the table to the side. He was getting comfortable.

“I’d rather not do this right now,” she said, tiredly. Her brain couldn’t take it today. She wanted to see him, god, she couldn’t deny the desire to reach out and stay with him. If he was real, then she wasn’t going insane. If this was real, than maybe this was where she was supposed to be. it made so much

And it all gave her a headache. 

Kylo watched her as she stood in the threshold of the room. “Me neither,” he said dryly. “But this is our little secret, isn’t it?”

“Oh?” Rey turned to him slowly. 

He raised an eyebrow lazily. “No one else can see it, can they? No… They wouldn’t, now would they? They don’t have anything to see in the mirror but themselves. Why would they look for secrets and worlds beyond their own?”

“And what is it that I’m looking for?” That was the question wasn’t it? That’s what haunted her at night when she lay, unable to fall asleep as she dreamed of vast futures far from her touch. There was purpose somewhere in this world and she both yearned to reach out and grasp it and feared to take it in her hands. 

He crossed his arms and sized her up. Rey knew she wasn’t much to look at—her whole life she had known there were always people taller than she, with fuller hips and fuller cheeks, bodies that didn’t look like they were still in their first decade in life. But Rey knew she was strong. Strong enough to face whoever or whatever he was.

At any rate, he seemed like the kind of person who had answers—at least more answers than he had questions. And Rey was a girl always looking for answers.

“Tell me,” she said as she sat down in front of the mirror. He mirrored her actions almost perfectly, the two of them leaning in towards the glass at the same time. “What do you see in me?”

~

Fall is a fickle thing. 

It doesn’t stay; nor does it linger. One day the fields were laden and full of crops -- the next, they were plowed and barren. Everything was yellow and grey as the color faded from the world and the threat of the wet, weary winter settled in. Nowhere fell into its seasonal disrepair, occupied by the poor dreamers and those left behind without enough to escape for another year. Though this year, Rey found herself dreaming, accompanied by a man with heavy brown eyes. 

But fall is more than just the turn of color into grey: there is fire and vibrant color and Leia Organa swept into Rey’s life, a beautiful leaf blown into her path by a crisp fall wind.

Finn and Rose kept their promises and before Rey knew it, she was scouring her closet for something appropriate to wear for the meeting. It was supposed to be causal, but Leia was, well  _ Leia Organa _ , and Rey wanted to be more than who she was -- to be who she could be and when she stared at herself in the mirror in a white blouse with soft suede pants and a delicately knit grey sweater, she smiled. 

“You look positively radiant, my dear,” Leia said as they sat down to eat. 

Rey blushed. “I tried.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Names have power and Leia’s preceded her own reputation, but nothing could have prepared Rey for who she  _ was _ . Leia Organa was not the woman that Rey expected. Both older and younger than she appeared in print, she was a force of a woman who walked into the restaurant in waves of navy and greying hair in a bun, sunglasses resting on her head. She took Rey’s hands and kissed her cheek and sat her down before they ordered. 

“You’re good with your hands,” Leia commented. 

Rey struggled to hide a smile as she touched the cut on her palm. It hadn’t quite healed, though the scab was beginning to chip. “For once, this wasn’t from work. I was…” -- _ trying to convince a man in a mirror to prove to me that he wasn’t a hallucination-- _ “moving a mirror and it slipped.”

“A broken one?” Leia tsked and shook her head. “That’s bad luck.”

Rey laughed. “No too bad so far. Especially since I happened before I met you and this is the farthest thing from bad luck to ever happen to me.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” she replied as she leaned back in her chair. “Finn and Rose speak highly of you.”

“They’re good people.”

Leia hummed as she gestured for the waiter. “Indeed. And they have a nose for good people as well. I know you have no experience with my organization, I know that a desk job might be the farthest thing from what you want right now, and I respect that. But you’re smart and you see patterns in the world and according to your friends, have a knack for knowing what’s valuable and keeping things afloat financially, if your experience with the scrapyard tells me anything. Which is why I want you on my team.”

A pit formed in the middle of Rey’s stomach. “What?”

“I’m not that formal of a woman, despite what the world wants to make of me.” Leia smiled and held out her hand. Rey took it and looked up at her. “This is a job offer. We can start part time for now as you find your footing, but I recognize good talent when I see it. And you’ve got talent, Rey, and I want you on my side.”

“I…

“Think about it,” Leia said gently. “We can adjust the hours to part time if that would work better for you. Just think about it, that’s all I ask.”

Rey nodded and smiled tentatively, the last bit of summer warmth shining on her skin. 

~

It’s unnerving, to be known. 

Kylo wasn’t what she expected.

What did it mean to be so immediately familiar to one so strange? To know implicitly that he understood? That there was a likeness that connected them, even beyond the reach of the mirror. They both were waiting -- they both were running, though from what and where to varied depending on how generous they were feeling in divulging. 

“No wonder you wait so well,” he mused one evening. 

Rey swallowed. Though it came off as a compliment, the fact itself stung. He asked where she came from and she answered. A Nobody in Nowhere, left behind by the ones that cared and told they’d be back. A part of her always wondered if it was a lie. If it was, it was one all to easy to fall for. 

“I made it into something for myself, at least. I started out as a mechanic for my foster father, who was a grade-A fucking bastard if I’m being nice. Taught me enough skills to make my own shop, but I left that a few years ago to work for the scrapyard. But the other day, I ended up getting a part time job for the Organa Foundation. Leia Organa -  _ the Leia Organa _ \- taking an interest in Nowhere, can you believe it?”

Kylo’s eyes became distant. He stiffened. Rey sat up straight. “Everything alright?”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

He growled as he stood and lifted his flashlight to cancel out the mirror, and Rey found herself stiffening in shame and rage. “What’s wrong with what I do? It’s a good job and giving a better shot at a decent life, and you don’t even know me.”

He opened his mouth and closed it soundlessly, a fish out of water. 

“No,” he conceded. “I don’t.”

“Thank you.” She glanced his way. “What about you? What’s your story?”

Fire lit in his eyes. “My story is the opposite of yours, not too alike, yet not too dissimilar. I had parents. Parents who cast me aside, who hated their son, despite my best efforts to do everything they asked. Everything they wanted. But I couldn’t be enough for them.”

Indignation rose in Rey’s chest. How dare he compare her lack of a family to his -- however imperfect they were, they still existed. They didn’t toss him aside with promise of return in his mind.

And yet… 

There was something there, something in his gaze that held her tongue. As if the shadows behind him had reached up to linger around his chin, his jaw and settle into the lines of his face. He looked old. Rey swallowed. 

“It must have been one hell of an event to make you run like that.”

“Sharks swim constantly to keep alive,” he said eventually, the emotions on his face brought back under control. “Why would running be any different? At least I can feel that pain, and know I’m still alive.”

It was an unspoken arrangement after that: something that lingered between them—a heavy weight that neither of them wanted to lift. Don’t talk about the past. Don’t bring up Leia Organa. Cancer, is what she should have named it, but instead it was more like a monster under their beds. One that would wake up one day, and would ruin everything. 

Because despite knowing him and yet knowing nothing… there was a comfort in their routine. To come home at the end of the day and instead of sitting in front of a television, sitting in front of her mirror and seeing someone who knew her—just enough, to her comfort level, and they’d just talk. 

It helped that he was beautiful. He was handsome -- god he was handsome, yet not conventionally so. The make of him was full of contradictions. A hard, defined jaw, yet a softness along the curve of his chin that makes him look younger than his years. He was tall, strong and muscular -- a man crafted to make way by the strength of his hand. And yet there was an unsurety to his frame. A bent posture that softened and curled when he caught sight of her. Vulnerable. She told him that once and he blushed. His hair was brushed back from his face, and the redness crept to the tips of his ears that peered through his hair. She smiled and sat down against the glass. 

“It’s true.”

“I…” Kylo cleared his throat and for a moment that perfect mask he wore faltered. “It doesn’t make it any easier to hear.”

“But you are,” Rey said, and she sat on her heels. 

He swallowed and whispered, “So are you.”

Her top was light and well worn—she’d given up a bra in favor of comfort, and honestly, she did that around town every now and then, and she never gave it much thought. She was the farthest thing from busty and in this weather, it saved her. But here? With her eyes on him and his eyes desperately trying to stay on her face...

God, why couldn’t he be here? Why couldn’t he be real?

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the mirror. As close as she could get to him. As close as she could make this truth. 

“How do I know I’m not dreaming?” Oh, how she wished this was a dream. In a dream she could touch him, kiss him, hold him. 

He was silent. Somehow that was comforting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> voila, you guys get an early chapter update!
> 
> next and final chapter will be on saturday <3
> 
> you can find me on twitter & pillowfort @aionimica, instagram @aionimicas


	3. Part III

Time went by. The last vestiges of fall vanished and winter came. 

And Rose and Finn left. 

Rey shook as she helped them pack. It was all she had to keep from letting it show, but it was all she could think.  _ They’re leaving, they’re leaving, they’re leaving me _ . 

“We won’t be that far away,” Rose said as they hugged and Rey handed her the last bag of belongings. “It’s only a few hours. And we’ll have an extra room -- it’s yours anytime you want it.”

Rey nodded through the tears. She couldn’t even speak as Finn broke away, ignoring that tearing feeling in her heart, until she managed. “We’ll make all the best weekends out of it.”

Easier to smile and nod and make promises that will never be followed through. Easier to say that and not think of everyone else who left and promised to return and who never came back. 

Rey watched them from the porch of her trailer, as they drove away with a U-Haul bouncing behind them. Finn got a job with a tech development firm in their human resources department, and Rose and Rey hounded him until he accepted and celebrated. 

Rey swallowed as she watched them drive off. No matter how long she knew it was coming, it didn’t make it any easier. Nor was it any easier to swallow, being left behind. Every part of her wanted to chase after them; to run away with them off to a new place where she could leave this shithole behind. But her mind screamed at her to stay. It wasn’t the right time—she had no other leg to stand on and even though the part time job with the Organa Foundation had promise, nothing had come of it yet. Not enough to move. 

_ And what if they come back? What if my family comes and I’m not here? _

“What’s wrong?”

Kylo Ren, however, was still there.

Rey turned around. Everything inside her threatened to erupt. Sadness and anger and hurt and everything else she had locked away and forgotten, rose up as the only thought she could think of was,  _ I’m not worthy of anything again _ . 

“Rey…”

She blinked. He was closer to the mirror, only a few inches from her, arms outstretched. If he was there, truly there, she would have been able to feel his warmth. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, beseeching.

The urge to lean back into him was strong, but Rey wanted nothing comforting -- not the false comfort of glass and the image inside it.

“Nothing new,” she bit out. “Nothing ever changes. No matter what you do, nothing will ever change. You’ll always be left alone and no matter what you do to try and keep it from happening again,  _ and again and again _ , nothing -- Nothing.” She glared at him. He didn’t move. “Will change it.” 

“So you’re nothing.”

Rey started and then stopped and then, “That is cruel coming from you.”

Kylo frowned. “You said it yourself. That’s how the world sees you. You’re nothing. Is that it?” She closed her eyes as he kept on -- if she closed her eyes, it wouldn’t be so true. 

“But that’s the thing you forget,” he said and his voice lowered to a passionate growl. “You’re talented.” 

“I’m not.” Her rebuttal was weak. 

“Yes,” he said fiercely, “you are.”

“But you don’t know me—”

“Do I not?” Rey stilled as his tone became sharp. “How long have we talked—how long have you sat here at the end of the day? How often do you come here to confide? I know you—as well as you know yourself; as much as you are willing to know yourself.”

His tone lessened. “You might be a creature of nothing—of Nowhere. But you’re so much more than that.”

He pressed his fingers to the glass, and when Rey reached out she could almost imagine their warmth. 

~

When winter takes its hold on the world, even so mildly, it doesn’t enjoy letting go. Rain fell day after day. Scrap came harder to come by and Rey found herself spending more time at the Organa Foundation’s offices, waiting for more work. As if just being around enough would eventually force them to give her something to do. 

One day, it seemed to work. Leia walked by her cubicle and cleared her throat. “Come with me, I have some things for you.”

She hadn’t been in Leia’s office before. Most of their conversations happened in passing, or outside the office completely and now Rey knew why. It was a sparse office. A few certificates hung on the wall, a plant rested in the corner. But that was all. 

But there was one personal momento. A picture on her desk. It was of a young man in his late teens or early twenties. Black hair curled around too-large ears and dark circles hung beneath brown eyes. There was a soft smile on his face as a younger Leia and another man hugged him around the middle with fondness in her eyes.

Leia smiled sadly. “My son. Ben. It’s an old picture. I don’t have anymore recent ones.”

“What happened to him?”

“I don’t know. I lost… lost touch with him almost ten years ago,” Leia said at last and looked back to Rey with a hint of her old smile on her face. The moment passed and locked away. “But enough of that. Let’s talk about your future.”

A request easier said than done. Because as the cold rain started to fall against the window panes, Rey tried to listen, but her attention kept returning to the picture on the desk. The man was younger here -- his hair shorter, cheeks gaunt, but those eyes… Those eyes were the same as she looked in every night. It was her man in the mirror. 

~

“Tell me about your family.”

Kylo froze. They were sitting on the floor, leaning against the mirror, tracing the path of each other’s hands against the glass. His face went slack before he gathered himself and turned to face her. 

“That’s behind me now,” he said quietly, his fingers stilling. 

Rey frowned. “So you’re just abandoning them?”

“They abandoned me,” he said quietly, coldly, in a way that gave her more pause than if he were to lash out in anger. “I thought of anyone who could possibly understand that urge to run away from terribly families, it would be you.”

Anger flared in her chest. “Why would I know?”

Kylo sat up suddenly. “You mean, you’re alright with life like this?”

Rey said nothing. She felt it again, that feeling when emotion came too strong and if she said the wrong thing, she’d burst into tears. Better to say nothing at all and hold it back; better to be strong.

“Rey,” he said, soft yet harsh -- a challenge. “You can’t possibly want to stay here, do you? Your have no family. Your friends left for a better life. But you’ve stayed behind. But for what? You have nothing here. Nothing but this mirror. Nothing but this little haven in your mind.” 

Rey blinked back tears. She opened her mouth to argue against it, but found nothing to stand on. He was right. Finn and Rose moved away and left her behind, and even though they were only a few hours away, it didn’t soothe the sting of the truth. 

It was just Rey and her trailer and this stupid fucking mirror that she couldn’t seem to run away from. And now there was him. Kylo Ren. 

Tears ran down her face as it all swelled up around her, a well of emotion she’d ignored and tamped down for so long that she forgot existed and now it shot through her chest like a geyser. 

His voice came softly now, gentle around her. “What do you want to see so badly that you can’t stand to leave it alone?”

Her hands shook. The truth she knew but dared not speak was uttered out loud. She was so alone. 

Sniffling, she spun around, armed with her words, ready to pry him open as he did her. “And what about you? Why do you run? What was so bad about your family that you left? Surely they didn’t just leave you on some doorstep as child.”

He stared at her, unmoving and silent as she lashed out, more of her spilling out between them. She never told anyone that. Not even Finn. Rey half wished the mirror would close and whatever link, whatever portal bridged the two of them would snap. “You have air conditioning and food and a job that pays well and all you can think about is leaving! Is your family so rotten that you would give it all away?”

His jaw clenched and his eyes hardened. “No, I—”

“Then what are you running from, Kylo Ren? That’s not even a name and—”

“Rey, I’m—”

“What are you running from? If you can read me so well, why can’t you see what’s so clearly pushing you and—” Rey could barely see past her own tears, but there was a shift in his posture that gave him away a moment before he snapped.

“I’m running from myself!”

If words could shatter glass, the pain laced in his voice would have torn the mirror asunder. But even as his fists landed on the glass of the mirror, only his knuckles came back bruised and bleeding. Drops of blood dripped down the glass. 

The room fell silent.

“I killed my father,” he said into the dark. Rey swallowed. She resisted the urge to curl in on herself as he turned back to her. “People will try and write it off as an accident, the police reports did, and I… I wasn’t trying to not kill him. I didn’t want to, but I still did. He still died.”

A part of her thought his voice would break, but instead it was low, resolute. Frightening and clear. “And ever since then, I thought with him out of the way, without family to weigh me down, I would be stronger. I’d be able to forge my own path without their burden. But he’s still there.” He looked at her and Rey said nothing. “I half expected to find him in the mirror, because if you’re a ghost and you’re all in my head, why isn’t he? Why can I still hear his voice and see his smile and hear him say, ‘I love you, Ben.’”

_ Ben _ … Rey saw him then as he was once. That smiling boy in the picture on Leia’s desk.

“Did you hate him?”

“No,” he said, and his voice cracked. “Don’t pity me—I run because of what I did. Because of what I did to myself. When my father died, it was as if I carved out half of my own heart. Because only someone heartless could do that to their own blood. So that’s why I run. To feel, to try and give any of this meaning. Because I can’t stay here and drown in the blood of my own family.”

“Well, I don’t.” Her voice was raspy, her throat dry. “Want to run.”

“Why not?”

“Someone might come back for me.” The words left her before she could stop them. A horrible wish that, no matter what she did, Rey was sure she’d never shake. 

“Someone? Who? Your family?”

Rey nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Kylo shook his head. “You would… You’d rather hang around for people who left you? A foster father who treated you like garbage?”

“He did, but not—”

“That’s what you told me yourself,” he said harshly. Something akin to concern laced his words, but they cut sharp as knives. “‘A grade-A fucking bastard’ is what you called him if I remember. And yet you’re still here in this town, as if all your hard work can make it not be what it truly is. Can’t you see how this is holding you back?”

_ It’s not, it’s not, it’s not _ . Rey covered her ears and closed her eyes on the off chance that when she opened them, Kylo and his mirror would be gone. She grit her teeth. “My family is not a weakness.”

Family. And for the first time, instead of faceless parents and dreamed up siblings, Rey saw Finn and Rose. Family. 

“They are for you.” His voice was solemn, and when Rey dared to look up, his jaw was hard but his eyes were soft. “How many opportunities have you left behind? How many times have you given up an opportunity to wait?”

Finn and Rose had offered her their spare room when they’d moved.  _ I’m sure you’ll be able to find a job quickly, especially with Leia’s connections. And she’s mentioned she’d love to have you around full time _ , Rose added. And what had Rey said? 

She bit back the tears. She wouldn’t cry in front of him. Even though he was right and even though he was speaking the truth she was too afraid to confront it. Too afraid to look at him when she readied herself in the mirror. 

“You’re alone in a trailer, hiding from opportunities because of a possibility. A possibility I don’t even know if you want.”

Rey snarled. “And you’re alone in a giant house, haunted by dying memories of your own choices.” 

He did nothing. “At least I’m willing to leave.”

“You’d throw it all behind? Let it turn to dust?”

“I’d kill it if I had to, if I could just forget,” he said bitterly.

“And what about your mother?” 

Kylo blinked. Rey felt a stone drop in her stomach, suddenly making her want to be sick. They’d implicitly agreed to leave this stone unturned. Once, she mentioned Leia Organa’s name and their conversations shuddered to a halt. So he didn’t know that she knew, that she saw… That his mother had given Finn and Rose their jobs—that she’d offered one to Rey.

“What do you know of my mother?” he asked coldly.

Rey turned on the lights.

~

She kept the bathroom light on that night. It was worth the extra money. For once, she wanted to be alone. 

_ You’re holding me back _ , she whispered to the dark. It wasn’t comforting that she could imagine him replying,  _ I know _ . 

~

The next night, Rey sat in front of the mirror with a candle in her hand. 

Its flame flickered brightly, wavering in the drafty air. Golden light fell from the small flame, casting ghosts against her skin.

Rey licked her fingers and snuffed it out. 

The mirror glowed and his side of the world appeared. 

He was standing there, shirtless, his musculature pronounced by the dim light. Rey swallowed and looked up to him defiantly. 

“In the dark, I can’t hide from everything anymore. I lie in bed and think of all the things I can’t control, all the things I’ve done wrong and all the people who don’t seem to care. At night, I’m alone and the darkness makes it worse. I didn’t understand it…” she said quietly. He slowly turned. Rey reached out and pressed her hand on the glass.  _ I’m so alone… He’s not even real. _ “I’m so alone…”

“You’re not alone,” he said hoarsely.

He touched his hand to hers, and maybe it was the lack of sleep, maybe it was the heavy heat already in the night air, but heat spread from his palm to hers, and for once Rey looked into his eyes—his dark, yearning eyes—and felt for once that maybe this wasn’t just in her mind.

She dreamt that she screamed his name that night.

~

“You’re trapped in your own mind.” Rey turned to him as he spoke suddenly. He was looking through rather than at her, but she felt seen all the same. 

“Tell me how to escape,” she said quietly.  _ I wish this was real. That I could break the mirror and walk through it. That maybe it could be a window and I could escape. _

But escape to what? 

His voice pulled her back as he said, “You won’t have to be alone...” 

She turned around slowly. He was kneeling behind her. “Come with me, Rey,” he said softly, tenderly. “Please…”

She curled against the mirror - against him, imagining him there, imagining she wasn’t alone.“I can show you so many places—things beyond your wildest dreams, and you’ll never have to want again. And you can leave them all behind. All of it. You’ll never have to think of it again.”

_ Yes _ , was on the tip of her tongue until the finality of his words sunk in.  _ Leave all of them behind _ . His mother, Finn, Rose, Poe—everyone who had taken her in and shown her kindness. 

“I can’t leave my friends,” she said at last. 

“But you can come with me.” There was a lilt to his voice that turned it into a question

“I… can’t…” Rey stood. “I can’t leave them behind. Not for you. Not something that only lives in my mirror.”

He growled. “I am real.”

“Then act like more than an echo of my own fears.”

Kylo stiffened as if he’d been slapped. Rey looked away.

He offered for her to join him. To run away together. To run away and never look back. To kill the past if they had to. And for the first time, Rey looked through the window and saw her own reflection and knew where her home was. 

Without another word, Kylo wrote his address on a piece of paper and propped it up against the mirror. 

She didn’t write it down.

~

A few days later, Rey walked by the mirror and habitually reached for the candle. She picked it up and grabbed a match and then… Slowly set it back down. 

The room stayed bright. And she walked away. 

~

One day, she didn’t go sit in front of the mirror. 

At night, when she turned off the lights, it never lit up.

Winter fell and stormed and then one day, spring came again. 

The sky was blue, the birds sang and the faintest hints of green came back into the world. 

As time went on, the urge to check it—to turn down the lights and sit in front of the mirror and wait—diminished. It sat in the corner, shrouded. She never saw anything inside it again, besides her own reflection. If it had ever been a window, it was shuttered. 

A few weeks into spring, Leia offered her a full-time position at their main office.

“You’ll have to move,” she said, unable to keep the uncertainty from her voice. “We can offer relocation funds, but it’s a job.”

“That’s ok,” Rey said smiling, even though her stomach flipped. It was time to leave, to become more than Nothing.  _ You’re running away,  _ Kylo’s voice whispered.  _ Why not run with me? _

_ No _ . She shook her head. _ Not running from. Running to. _

_ Run this way with me. _

For a few weeks, she stayed with Finn and Rose in the city as she adjusted to her role in Leia’s company and worked out the finances for her own place. When Rey finally left that old, run down trailer for the last time, she paused as she stared at the mirror. It gathered dust, still looked out of place in her room. It was beautiful even still, a relic of a time that she didn’t know how to categorize. Was it fondness or fear? Or both? They made her feel alive. 

For better or for worse, it gave her comfort and maybe that’s why she brought the mirror with her. She put it in a room off of her own—for some, they would call it a closet. For Rey, it was her quiet space. 

One day, she sat there and braided her hair the way Leia had shown her. “Some hairstyles are classics and I’d never forgive myself if I never shared them with anyone.”

She looked on Rey like she would a daughter; a parent she never had, and wasn’t quite sure she deserved. Rey found the practice soothing. Mindful. The mirror was still just a mirror, reflecting the light from the window. With a soft smile, Rey went and opened it and felt a weight lift off her shoulders as it refracted off the glass surface and illuminated the tiny room. 

It was a part of her, but no longer a crutch. 

But every now and then, she’d have dreams that would take her back to those days she spent in front of it. And then she’d be lying in that space with her pants pulled down and her fingers inside her while slick ran down her legs.

It wasn’t only during the day either. Cold sweat and moans woke her from those dreams and the back of her mind would curse her for denying such basic needs. 

And then there was a part of her that saw that loneliness -- that echo of herself in him. That one singular similarity that seemed to reach out across space and time to connect them. But what if it was just in her mind? And all she saw was a reflection of herself, just in a different form? 

But the mirror was quiet. And Rey’s mind stilled. This was real. This was real. 

The sun set and Rey looked out over the city and smiled sadly. There was a loss, and it hurt. They chose their own paths.

She made the right choice. 

~

_ I’ll be a few minutes late. _

Rey glanced at her phone before glancing into one of the stalls. The Saturday morning market became one of their special places. Fresh flowers and sticky buns and the smell of spiced meats lingered in the morning air. A few dollars and one sticky bun later, Rey sat on a bench.

She glanced around for Leia, licking honey off her fingers. Smiling, she waved when she saw her turn the corner, but then suddenly stilled. There was a stranger at her side. There were always strangers in the market -- it was a Saturday and there were always new people at the farmer’s market -- but this one was looking at her, standing straight and tall with dark hair and hooded eyes. He walked next to Leia, face paling at he realized they were coming towards her. 

They stopped in front of her. Rey couldn’t breathe. Everything about the man told her to run, told her that he shouldn’t be here. A year ago she’d run, but she wasn’t that girl anymore. 

“Can I help you?” she asked sharply.

“Rey!” Leia turned around to the man, taking his arm. “I’m so sorry for this, she is a dear friend and —”

“It’s alright, Mom,” the man said as he turned back to Rey. He held out a hand. “I think we’ve met before.”

And then she saw it. The scar on his palm that matched her own and the twisting scar that ran down his cheek.

Her basket fell to the floor, various produce scattering across the aisle. She told herself it wasn’t real. It was just a dream -- it couldn’t possibly be real. But here he was, staring at her with the same wide, brown eyes and full lips she memorized once so perfectly. 

An apple rolled to his feet. He didn’t even notice, stepping past it to her with hands outstretched. He didn’t move to pick them up. 

He couldn’t be here — it was impossible for him to be here; the last she saw of him was months ago. Her man in the mirror, swearing to escape whatever past he had was here with Leia… his mother. So many questions swelled in her mind, so many questions that needed answers, but she was rendered speechless because  _ he was here.  _

“I’m sorry—“ she started shaking her head. “I didn’t realize who— you…”

Tears welled up in her eyes as he pulled her -- Ben, her Ben -- into a hug. He was warm and solid and there and real, his voice whispering in her ear, “ _ It is you _ .”

And it echoed in her heart to the beat of  _ You are real, I am real, This is real _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this weird little fic. I hope you enjoyed it <3 Its one that I'm still not sure how I feel about it, but I did the best I could with where I am and what I have.
> 
> To those leaving kudos and comments, thank you <3 i never thought it would get even this reception <3 it's been a hard year and this fic has been a really hard one to work with, but your responses make it easier <3 thank you <3
> 
> as always, you can find me @aionimica on twitter and pillowfort

**Author's Note:**

> I will be updating this fic once a week until complete.
> 
> Thank you for reading, my loves <3


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